


Some wood is just wood

by Balthuza



Category: Shards of the Sun
Genre: Gen, and some things definitely should not be, dunno, magical living refrigerators, not everything is innuendo, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:38:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balthuza/pseuds/Balthuza





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenka/gifts).



"So, how does that work?" asks Fyr, watching old vegetables Flick bought for few coppers come back to being fresh and appealing. Flick shrugs.

"Dunno. Magic. Was to angry to ask." She shrugs again, poking one of the carrots and making a face when she realizes it’s still soft. 

"Still, it seems useful." Fyr sits down with his back to one of the crates. "Could do a lot of good with that." Flick hums noncommittally. 

 

"So, any idea what now?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Hm, the innkeeper? He mentioned something about a job?" Flick rolls her eyes. "Not a delivery."

"Well, we can ask, I suppose."

 

The inn they managed to get rooms at is a far cry from the best Flick has ever seen, but it’s the only establishment of its kind within the distance of three days walk from Nearon. Flick both yearned and dreaded walking back into an urban environment and her indecision left them stranded for the moment. When they walk inside, it’s almost empty - a typical late-morning lull. 

 

There are but two patrons in: a cloaked figure in the back and a regular who seems to inhale whatever the innkeeper deemed to be food today. The innkeeper himself is nowhere to be seen, so Flick and Fyr move up to their rooms, where Flick harasses Fyr long enough for him to accept a small part of what the renewed vegetables earned them. She looks curiously when he takes out a second money pouch and puts the coins in there, but decides not to pry. 

 

While she spends time studying her spellbook, Fyr is in and out of his room, the occasional slam of heavy doors down the corridor startling her a few times. It’s late afternoon by the time she is woken up from a shallow nap by knocking on the door.

 

"You alright there? Did you fall asleep?" She can clearly hear the amusement in Fyr’s voice.

"Obviously not. Preparing spells takes a great amount of time and concentration. It is a delicate art" she answers, opening the door. 

 

Fyr snorts. "Sure. I talked to the innkeeper while you were… busy." Flick raises an eyebrow at him and opens up her mouth to comment. Realising his mistake, Fyr keeps talking. "It’s about this power of yours. Apparently there's an elf going around, looking for a gardener or something. Figured you’ll do in a pinch." 

 

Flick straightens to her full height. 

 

Fyr does not look impressed. 

 

"I  _ will not _ dig in mud. Over my dead body."

 

~~

 

"Can’t believe we are even here. I’m not  _ a gardener _ . What are we even doing here? Why did we agree?"

"Well," sighs Fyr, "actually,  _ you _ agreed. As soon as the man mentioned the elf was “right pretty” and “needed some help with his wood." He seems to be physically hurt by that description. Flick snorts.

"Well, there’s that, I suppose." 

 

They are sitting in the inn which is almost empty again. The innkeeper is in the back, close enough to spy on their conversation, but just far enough to get away if their meeting goes south. 

 

The first thing Flick notices when the elf walks in is that he seems to be a bit shorter than Nil, and wears an enormous coat, dark and a bit worn but thick and practical. 

 

The second thing she notices is that he is not a he.

 

The third thing she notices is that the elf is nowhere near the age to be described as “right pretty” by middle-aged men. 

 

“Just a minute,” she throws to them both and walks to where the innkeeper is hiding. Fyr and the elf hear nothing but a hushed whisper from her and a vaguely panicked answer from the other. All they manage to catch is a panicked “didn’t know it was a lassie, I swear!” and “that is  _ so _ not the problem” shot back immediately.

 

"Hi, I’m Fyr" he reaches out a hand in greeting. The elf gives it a skeptical look. 

"Cyn." There is a moment of vaguely awkward silence. Fyr lowers his hand. The whispering in the back continues.

 

They both turn when Flick emerges from behind the bar. 

 

"So.. you’re looking for help? With a plant?" The elf seems unsure.

"Yes. It’s a… family heirloom."

"So, is it like a family mission? They are all looking?" Behind Flick’s back Fyr grimaces seeing the way Cyn flinches slightly.

"None of your business." She gets up as if to leave.

"Oi, no need to get all high and mighty there" Flick snorts. Fyr bends almost in half and whispers something to her. She snaps her mouth and looks a bit chastised.

 

"Look, sorry,  _ it is _ none of our business. But if you want help, we can offer. You need a plant kept alive? She can do that." Fyr gestures towards Flick.

"Well, yeah, but I want to know what I’ll be keeping alive."

"You will not touch it." The elf folds her arms defensively. 

"I didn’t say… You know what, forget it. You want to be difficult, be difficult somewhere else." 

 

Flick gets up and starts to move towards the stairs. Fyr throws Cyn a look and takes a single step to catch up with the gnome. 

"Was that really necessary?" he asks.

"Well, how that’s my fault? She asks for help and then gets all prickly about it."

"She’s a kid in trouble. Don’t be an ass." Flick gapes at him for a second. 

"You said  _ ass _ ! You are not a very good paladin, are you?" She laughs and almost immediately stops when she sees Fyrs face drop. "I’m definitely on a roll today, aint I? It’s just... Listen. I don’t even know the kids name…"

 

"It’s Cyn. I’m less than three steps away from you. I can obviously hear you," grumbles the elf, glaring at them slightly. 

"All right. Cyn, listen. We are not going to stay here. I don’t know where we will go from here. I’m not going to force you to bear our company when it’s obviously not to your liking" says Flick. Fyr sighs again. "If you want, I can probably keep whatever this thing is alive. I don’t have to touch it. I just wanted to know what it is." She shrugs. "Anyway, I won’t tell you off for being a bit of a pain in the ass, but really, this week was bad enough, I’m not going to willingly make it worse. Are you even listening?" she ask, realising the elf isn’t looking at her anymore, instead watching something within the vast depths of her coat. She looks back at Flick with something akin to a shred of hope.

"I will go with you."


End file.
